


the ocean is turning

by evocates



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, really unconventional and belated h/c though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/pseuds/evocates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the world seems so small that Lee can’t breathe. Or, The One in Which Lee is Claustrophobic and Richard Helps and Somehow They Get Together in the End. For <a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/6124.html?thread=14919916#t14919916">this prompt</a> about Richard helping Lee overcome his fears on hobbit_kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ocean is turning

It was something completely unexpected.

Thorin looked up to Thranduil, his lips drawn back into a snarl. The Elvenking’s expression was blank, haughty, and Thorin hated it and wanted nothing more than to force some fear into Thranduil’s eyes, to make him feel pain like Thorin’s people had felt pain when they were burnt by Smaug’s fire. What did Thranduil know of dragon fire? What did Thranduil know of pain, of fear, of watching his people die while being helpless to stop it?

(At the deepest part of Thorin’s mind, Richard Armitage remembered _The Silmarillion_ , and he knew that Thorin was wrong. Thranduil knew full well what it was like to have to stand aside while those he was supposed to protect died, but Thorin knew nothing of it, and the King in Exile, a King only in bearing, was far too prideful to admit that his enemy could feel.)

He took three steps forward, hands clenching into Thranduil’s silver robe. Thorin growled low in his throat, shoving Thranduil down to the throne, looming over him. Where was Thranduil’s haughtiness now that he couldn’t look down his nose on Thorin Oakenshield, on the Dwarf who had spent all of his life fighting, working, and even begging for the sake of his sister-sons and his people?

But it was not Thranduil’s eyes that met his. Lee stared up at him, lips parted, his breath coming fast. Thorin blinked, and Richard knew instinctively there was something wrong, but Thorin saw his advantage and pushed harder at Lee’s chest, pinning him to the throne.

Then Lee’s hands were on his shoulders, throwing him off hard, throwing Richard out Thorin’s mind as he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground. Lee gave him a look and his eyes were wide, expression inexplicable, and Richard could only stare at his back as Lee practically fled. 

He heard a door slam, the sound echoing around the suddenly-silenced set.

“Cut,” Richard heard Peter say, and he shook his head hard, trying to push Thorin away. The King in Exile was as confused as he was, though his confusion was mixed with triumph and with a deep sense of satisfaction. It might not be Thranduil who ran away, but Lee looked enough like Thranduil for Thorin to be pleased at the victory he had gained over the Elvenking.

Richard gritted his teeth, extricating himself from Thorin as much as he could as he stood up.

“I’ll go after him,” Orlando said. He was Legolas no longer, blessed with the ability to switch in and out of character whenever Peter said “action” or “cut”. Richard looked at him, shaking his head.

“No, I’ll do it,” he said quietly. “I did something wrong and I should apologise.”

He didn’t know what he did, but the look in Lee’s eyes was seared deep into his mind. Fear mixed with something that looked like betrayal, like Richard was a father who promised to bring him a rose but brought home a monster instead. He rubbed at his mouth, turning to look at Peter.

Peter sighed quietly. “Half an hour’s break,” he called. His eyes fixed on Richard’s. “Go after him. Figure out what’s wrong and don’t let this happen again, alright?”

“Yeah,” Richard said. 

Lee was easy enough to find. He was sitting on one of the chairs outside of the studio, long, coltish legs draped over a director’s chair. There was a cigarette in one hand and Thranduil’s crown was hanging by two fingers in another, and Richard was immediately struck by the strangeness of the sight. Fully costumed and dressed up as he was, Lee seemed less like an actor than Thranduil the Elvenking who had never sailed to Valinor, but instead remaining on Middle Earth and watched as it changed through the hands of Men, and picked up a few bad habits in the process.

Lee rubbed at his nose, his mouth, dropping his head to stare up to the skies. Richard wondered what it was that he was looking for. The clouds were the same whether it was in Wellington or England or America; it was only at night that things changed and reminded them – or Richard, at least – that they were strangers in a strange land, that though the people were friendly, the ground seemed just a little bit too alien sometimes.

Richard’s mind was meandering, thinking around Lee instead of thinking of him. He shook his head hard to clear it before he walked forward slowly. Keeping his eyes on Lee, he grabbed a chair and pulled it close to the other man’s, dropping down and watching him still. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice low. There seemed to be some sort of sacred silence surrounding Lee, and without even thinking about it, Richard edged his chair away, just so slightly.

“No, I should be the one apologising,” Lee said, voice aimed towards the ground. “It wasn’t you. It was… it was the throne.” He looked up at Richard, rubbing at his own mouth. He licked his lips and shrugged. Richard didn’t need to be an actor to recognise such obvious signs of nervousness. He didn’t say a word, only nodded, waiting for Lee to continue.

Lee took a deep breath. “I don’t like small, enclosed spaces. That’s all.” His head was still ducked down, but he looked up through his lashes at Richard for the briefest moments before turning away again. “I’m really sorry about freaking out.”

“I won’t pin you to anything else this time,” Richard tried to make his voice light, hand rubbed the back of his own neck. Lee nodded, folding into himself, and silence sat uncomfortably between them like a third presence that couldn’t be chased away.

He wanted to reach out to touch Lee, to place a hand on his shoulder or pull him close, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. It wasn’t that he was afraid of crossing boundaries, but simply that Lee had shrunk into himself as if he was trying to make himself smaller or even invisible. Richard had seen that posture on himself far too often and he knew that he wouldn’t want to be touched right at the moment.

Still, the posture didn’t suit him. Lee shouldn’t be hunched over like this. It was always easy to spot Lee from the crowd because he was always standing up straight, completely comfortable with towering over others like Richard always tried to be. He had to do _something_ , and he reached out and touched Lee’s wrist.

“Come on, we need go back in.”

Lee shook his head, “I’ll sit here for a while. Will you tell Peter that I’m alright?”

Richard didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to leave Lee alone when he looked vulnerable in a way he should never look. But it was obvious that Lee wanted time for himself, and Richard hated confrontations, so he nodded and left.

***

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. The image of Lee sitting there, hunched over as if he was protecting himself from attack, was emblazoned to the back of his eyelids, haunting him whenever he closed his eyes. They finished the scene together after a couple of days more with Thorin dragging Thranduil down to his height and growling to his face, and Peter was happy with the scene. The shadows left Lee’s eyes by the time he came back into the studio on that very day, and Richard knew that he should just leave it alone.

Everyone had their own demons, and most didn’t appreciate having theirs exposed.

But Richard couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wanted to help and it was selfish in its own way, because not only did he want to help a friend, he needed to do this so he could finally have his peace of mind back. Richard didn’t know why he was haunted by the image; only that he _was_ , and maybe, just maybe, doing something and making things better for Lee would kill two birds with one stone.

Jed and Mark and Dean lived in the country, but it was from Orlando that Richard found the perfect solution. The younger man had an album of photographs, both those he took himself and others he copied off his friends’ negatives, and Richard saw the picture when they were all congregated in Orlando’s rented apartment, listening to his stories about the Fellowship during _Lord of the Rings_ filming. 

(Orlando was actually older than Lee was and a father to boot. Richard always had to remind himself of that because Orlando always acted so much _younger_ and Lee played _his_ father. Movies were an odd business, and Richard still couldn’t help but feel surprised whenever he was reminded of that.)

The place was named Nugget Point, near to Otago in the South Island, Orlando told him. A couple of his friends toured the South Island over ten years ago, Orlando said, and they told him that it was one of the most beautiful places they had ever seen. He always wanted to go there, if only for surfing, but he never really had the chance to, but he gave Richard the information he needed.

Richard might have given Orlando a little bit too much blackmail material and he now owed him a favour, but he figured that was a small enough price to pay. He smiled and thanked Orlando, and began to make his plans. 

***

They were having dinner together at Lee’s place when Richard finally found the words. 

“You’re almost done with filming, right?”

Lee paused midway through shovelling a piece of fried chicken into his mouth. He popped it in, chewing. “Yeah,” he said, his mouth half-full as he grin. “Why, you’re going to miss me?”

Richard snorted. “You have no manners,” he accused.

“Nah, I just don’t bother having them with you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why did you ask?”

“I have a few days’ break after you’re done,” Richard said, and he poked at his own piece of chicken. “I was wondering if… if you’d like to go somewhere with me for those few days.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere on the South Island,” he looked up at Lee, giving him a small, shy smile. “It’s going to be a surprise.”

Lee raised an eyebrow, “A surprise, huh.” He kicked Richard gently underneath the table. “Why, are you going to find a nice park with a good view of the skies and propose to me?”

Richard nearly choked on his chicken. He coughed hard, thumping his own chest. Lee had the strangest sense of humour sometimes, and he gulped down water and shook his head hard.

“I’m not _that_ uncreative,” he said, and grinned hard. “But seriously, I’m keeping it as a surprise. It’s not anything bad, I promise. I hope that you’ll love it, but I am pretty sure you won’t _hate_ it.”

Forgoing the fork, Lee picked up another piece of chicken with his fingers and chewed on it. “You can just tell me what it is so I can tell you if I like it,” he pointed out.

“That won’t make it a surprise.”

“I grew up on _The Lion King_ , okay? Surprises make me suspicious.”

“I’m not trying to kill your father to take the throne,” Richard said, trying really hard to keep laughter out of his voice. “I have my own. Also, _Lion King_ came out when you’re a teenager, you filthy liar.”

“Having at least one Disney reference is necessary to every conversation,” Lee shot back. He grinned, “No, I don’t really believe that. But sure.”

“Sure?”

“Sure, I’ll let you kidnap me to places unknown. Do I need to buy a plane ticket?”

Richard shook his head. “Not for where we’re going.”

“So… what are you going to do to me now that I have given you full permission to my body?” Lee raised an eyebrow.

It was a good thing Richard didn’t have anything in his mouth at the moment, or else he would have started choking again. “I’m going to throw you into my trunk and drive you Las Vegas where we can be married by an Elvis impersonator,” Richard said solemnly. “I hear that it’s a cherished American tradition.”

Lee lobbed a piece of chicken at his head. Richard, being used to this, caught it and tossed it into his mouth and chewed as obscenely as he could. In retaliation for failed vengeance, Lee kicked him under the table.

“Okay, okay, fine, I won’t ask. How long will we be gone for?”

“Four days at most,” Richard said, smiling. Definitely four days – he had the whole itinerary planned, but of course he wasn’t going to tell Lee that. 

“Alright,” Lee said. “I’ll pack my bags for four days and delay my flight. Anything I need to bring?”

“No, not really,” Richard replied, and he tried to not sound too excited about it. “Just bringing yourself will be fine.”

“No clothes?”

“And clothes.”

***

“We’re going south,” Richard said. Lee was in his car, with the top down as they drove down the deserted roads. He wasn’t much for roadtrips, but New Zealand’s scenery could convince anyone about the pleasures of just being on the road, in a car with nothing but nature surrounding them. “To Otago.”

Lee turned from where he was staring out towards the mountain range that Peter used for the Misty Mountains. The Southern Alps stretched throughout South Island, looming large over the scenery with the white tops seemingly brushing the clouds, blurring the boundaries between land and sky. “I didn’t realise there are Elvis impersonators in Otago,” he drawled.

Richard elbowed him in the rib, chuckling softly. “No, there aren’t any. I’m sure it’ll disappoint you, but we’re not actually going to get married.”

“Really? You’re breaking my heart, Richard,” Lee pretended to swoon on the passenger’s seat. “I even packed my wedding dress.”

“You brought a wedding dress to New Zealand?” Richard raised an eyebrow, taking his eyes off of the road for a moment to stare at Lee.

“I always bring my wedding dress when I head out for filming,” Lee said solemnly. “You never know when you might meet an eligible bachelor willing to kidnap you for a Vegas wedding.”

”Quit it, you,” Richard laughed. “Or else I’ll start believing that you want to get married to me.”

“You doubt my sincerity?”

“Yes.”

“I’m terribly hurt.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” Lee agreed, grinning. He shook his head, looking out towards the mountains for another moment before he spoke again. “But seriously, where are we going in Otago?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Richard said. 

“So,” Lee paused dramatically. “Are we there yet?”

Richard rolled his eyes, the back of his head thumping against the leather seat. “I’m not answering that question,” he groused.

But he couldn’t keep up the pretence of being grumpy for long, and Richard flashed Lee a grin that made the other man frown at him, exaggeratedly serious. Richard didn’t explain that they had already passed into Otago more than an hour ago; that Lee missed the sign that welcomed them to the city because he was dozing off. 

The smell of the sea was starting to reach them, and Richard laughed to himself as he pressed down hard on the accelerator. The car purred beneath him, leaping forward slightly, and he watched as Lee tilted his head back, stretching his hands up as the wind whipped his hair away from his face.

“You know, I always wondered how the people of Middle Earth dealt with having long hair,” Lee mused out loud. “It just seems really inconvenient, with the wind and all.”

“Well, Orlando told me the Elven secret of putting moisturisers into hair so that it doesn’t ever move,” Richard said, fighting to keep his face straight. “So it’s probably not much of a problem for you.”

Lee laughed out loud, the sound ringing in the air for the briefest of moments before the wind snatched it away. Richard let the smile curve up his lips, making a gentle turn – and he could see it from here, a column of brilliant white that rose up from the blue sea and the green grass.

“Ask it again,” he said.

“What?”

“The question you had before we started talking about Elf hair,” Richard urged, unable to fully contain the excitement in his voice. “Ask it again.”

“You mean,” Lee lowered his voice dramatically. “Are we there yet?”

“Yeah,” Richard said. He pulled the car over to the side of the road, stopping the engine. “We are.”

Lee leaned forward, frowning slightly. “Here? We’re in the middle of nowhere, Rich.” He looked around. “Or do you mean the lighthouse?”

“I mean the lighthouse,” Richard said. He hopped out of the car, walking over the other side and pulling Lee’s door open. “Come on. I really want to show you something.”

There was an odd look on Lee’s face, and his eyes were suddenly intense and penetrating, as if he thought he could read Richard’s thoughts just by looking hard enough at his face. It wasn’t entirely wrong, because Richard knew he was easy to read – especially by Lee, who was more observant than most – but he kept his face as blank as it could be while still smiling.

“Alright,” Lee said eventually, stepping outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Show me this surprise you’ve got.”

***

It took Richard quite a bit of wrangling before he managed this. The lighthouse had been unoccupied for years – nowadays the lights were LED and automated, keyed to light up whenever the sun started to set. But right now, it was still afternoon, nearly evening, and the lighthouse wasn’t filled with the heat and blinding brightness of the lights. Richard calculated the time as exactly as he could, but he still couldn’t help but tug on Lee’s sleeves as he brought him up the long staircase to the top of the tower.

The room at the top was small and dark. It wasn’t meant for occupation, because the keeper – when there was a keeper – only came up once every day to light the fires of the light. Now it was only occupied by a large mechanical light, but the window was still there, unchanged throughout the years, and Richard walked over to it. The hinges were rusty, but Richard fought with them for a few seconds before he managed to throw the glass outwards.

The sea breeze blew in, filling the room with the smell of salt and sand. Richard lidded his eyes, taking a long, deep breath.

Lee came over, leaning over the windowsill. Richard watched as he closed his eyes, long dark lashes curling over the curve of his cheekbones as he took a deep breath of the salty air.

“Richard?” Lee didn’t turn to him. “Why did you bring me here?”

Richard sighed. He had been trying to figure out how to answer this question for weeks and he still had no sure answers. But he had to try, somehow.

He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning against the door and looking to the side – out to where his view of the sea was almost entirely blocked by Lee. “I can’t stop thinking about that day,” he said softly. “That day when I did something stupid and I made you feel afraid. I can’t stop thinking about how you looked that day.”

He saw Lee’s eyes open, saw him part his lips, and he shook his head immediately. “If this is a stupid thing I did, tell me later? Let me finish?”

Lee froze. He lowered his eyes, and nodded.

“I was thinking…” Richard said, still staring out towards the sea. The words felt leaden on his tongue.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is too enclosed, especially when I live in a city. When I saw this place, this lighthouse… The room is tiny, isn’t it, but look what it opens up to. It just takes a few steps and you can see the skies, the sea, all of nature’s wonders spread out for you to see. It’s just right outside the window, this great big space, and I was thinking… if I showed this to you, if you remember seeing this, this vast beauty right outside somewhere that’s small… then maybe it’ll make you feel better, and you won’t have to be afraid anymore.”

He stared at his feet. His excitement had faded away, replaced by nervousness that almost had him fidgeting, and he hadn’t done that since he was a teenager. Footsteps sounded, and Richard started to wince, thinking that he really did something stupid, that Lee was angry at him.

Then Lee’s arm was around his shoulders, and Lee was pulling him in, holding him tight.

“When I was a kid, I lived in huge, open spaces,” Lee said quietly, his words half-muffled by Richard’s hair. “In Saudi Arabia, in Oklahoma, in Texas… I might live in cities, but whenever I look outwards there’s always space, empty land. Just… sheer emptiness, and I can’t stop thinking that that’s where air resides. I didn’t realise how important it was until I went to Juilliard. New York is just so _packed_ with people, all of them living close together, and sometimes I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like,” he laughed mirthlessly. “Like everyone living around me is stealing my air or something.

“Christ, that sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“No,” Richard said. He buried his face into Lee’s shoulder, holding him close. “No, it really isn’t stupid. I know how that feels. Like the air’s too thin.”

“Yeah,” Lee said, and when he laughed again, the sound was far more genuine. “It just… got worse through the years until… well, you saw what happened.”

Richard took a deep breath. He turned his head, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss on Lee’s jaw, before he pulled away. Shifting their positions slightly, they turned their faces towards the sea. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was alight with reds and oranges and pinks.

“If the space eludes you, then you hold onto it in your heart,” he whispered, then chuckled quietly. “I know that sounds like something you get out of a postcard, but it’s true. At least, I think it is.”

Lee leaned against him for a moment. “Can we go up to the roof?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Richard said, and he smiled to himself. “Just promise not to fall off the edge, yeah?”

“Well,” Lee said, looking at him sideways. “I’m depending on you to catch me if I do.”

Richard coughed, turning his head away because he could feel a blush creeping upwards. There was electricity in the air that he couldn’t exactly figure out, like lightning had lost its way and was now creeping below Richard’s skin in an attempt to seek comfort and warmth. Pulling away from Lee, he looked around himself.

He remembered the directions he received from the helpful receptionist when he called about entering the lighthouse a couple of weeks ago. The ladder up to the roof wasn’t difficult to find – it was metal, the paint flaking off, and Richard climbed up to it and unlatched the roof door, pushing it outwards and stepping out into the open air. Reaching down, he pulled Lee up next to him.

“It’s like the world has no end when you look at it like this,” he said eventually, watching the water quiver as the sun sank down to its depth. “The only limits are our eyes.”

“Yeah,” Lee said. “You know, I don’t want to take a photograph of this.”

“You don’t?”

“I have to try what you said, right?” Lee flashed him a smile. “Look at the vast beauty of this place and keep it locked inside my heart, so that I will never be afraid again.”

“I don’t know if it’ll work,” Richard said, and he knew he was blushing.

“It’s something to try,” Lee smiled. He leaned sideways and Richard stretched out his arm automatically, letting Lee tuck himself by his side. Almost involuntarily, his fingers started toying with the little hairs at the back of Lee’s neck.

“How long have you been planning for this?”

“Some time,” Richard made his tone as casual as he could. It probably didn’t fool Lee a whit, and Lee proved him right by laughing.

“Thank you.”

There was electricity wherever their bodies touched. Richard turned away from the sunset, catching Lee’s hazel gaze with his own. Their breaths ghosted across each other’s skin and Richard took the final step, leaned forward until their foreheads met, and he closed his eyes as Lee’s fingertips brushed against his cheeks.

When they kissed, Richard didn’t even wonder why he wasn’t surprised at all.

(Maybe, just maybe, he had more than one selfish reason for planning this.)

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a lyric from _Lighthouse_ by _The Hush Sound_.
> 
> The Nugget Point Lighthouse really exists, and it looks like [this](http://i.imgur.com/XLbFRks.jpg) at sunset.


End file.
